A Friend In Need
by watched 2 much tv
Summary: Dawson checks Casey out before he goes to the hospital. Episode tag to "Hanging On" 1x05.


This is alternate/missing scene for Hanging On. I hope you like it. I know it gets a little repetitive.

* * *

_Get up,_ he told himself. _Get up._

Casey grunted as he tried to prop himself up on his right elbow, but as soon as he managed that he fell back down. God, his ribs were killing him. There had to be a way to get up that caused minimal pain.

He waited for the aching in his ribs to settle down a bit before trying to sit up. Casey pushed his upper body off the ground with his palms before gasping in pain and letting himself fall back down.

The noise of cars driving by sounded far away which didn't make any sense because he knew that he was only about ten feet from the street. His head hurt and his ears were ringing and everything was moving.

Casey just lay there. Black dots clouded his vision, but he didn't move.

_Get up. It's not gonna do you any good to lie here. Get up, _he willed himself.

Casey didn't move.

_Get up. Get help. Go to hospital. Do something. Don't just lay here. Do something. Move!_ his mind yelled. His body didn't respond.

_If you stay here, he's gonna win. Get up. Go find Dawson._

Casey tried to move. He groaned. _Get up, _he told himself. He propped himself on his right elbow again and used his other hand to grab the leg of the dumpster behind him. He gasped in pain and gripped the dumpster leg so tightly his knuckles went white.

_Keep going, _his brain screamed. _Keep going._

He rolled himself onto his knees and screamed. It didn't hurt enough to merit a scream, but he was mad and in pain. So much pain.

He grabbed on to the top of the dumpster and slowly pulled himself up, groaning the entire way.

Once Casey had finally gotten on his feet, he leaned against the dumpster, suppressing the urge to vomit.

There was a faint ringing in the distance and it took him a minute to realize that it was his phone. Slowly, he pulled it out of his pocket and after blinking several times, he recognized Hallie's picture on his caller ID. He slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He managed to walk to the edge of the next building before having to stop because his ribs hurt too much to keep going. It was going to be a really long walk to the firehouse.

* * *

By the time, Casey slowly walked into the firehouse, he felt like he was dying. Just his luck, Dawson was the only one in the immediate area.

"Dawson," he croaked out. She must have not heard him because she didn't respond.

Before Casey got the chance to call her name again, she turned around and gasped. The sight in front of her was not a pleasant one. Casey was clutching his ribs and gritting his teeth in pain. There was blood dripping from a cut on his check that he didn't seem to have noticed and his clothes were dirty. What happened to him?

"Oh my God. What happened?" Dawson asked worriedly, as she walked over to him.

"Voight had some- some thugs- beat me up," he grunted. The walk to the firehouse had hurt so much, he could barely speak now because talking made his ribs ache so much more.

"Casey, you need to get to a hospital," Dawson advised.

"No," he objected, shaking his head furiously and regretting it instantly. "Dawson, you do it. Hallie- Hallie's at the hospital. Check m-me out first. Please?"

She conceded, "Fine, but then you're going to the hospital."

"In the ambulance," Casey pointed.

They gradually made their way into the ambulance. Casey slowly sat on the stretcher. Dawson sat on the on seat next to it, leaning past Casey to grabbed something.

"Dawson," he said. She turned to look at him and was suddenly all too aware their close proximity. "Yeah," she asked quietly. "Can you close the door?" he asked, pointing at the ambulance doors that were wide open, leaving them exposed for anyone to walk by and see.

She put the gauze that she had just taken from the shelf on the strecher next to him and then leaned out of the ambulance to close the doors. Dawson sat back next to him.

Casey stared at her intently while she tried to open the package the gauze pad was sealed in. After a minute, he asked, "You want me to try?" She looked up at him and declined, lifting the piece of gauze she had just opened to his cheek. Gently, she wiped away the blood. He grimaced anyways.

She tossed the used gauze into a makeshift trashbin. "What hurts?" the paramedic asked softly.

"My ribs and my chest. My head, too," he said.

"Take off your jacket and shirt," she ordered.

He slowly took off his jacket, watching Dawson dig through a bag of medical equipment in search of something. Casey started to pull his shirt up when Dawson sat back down with a stethoscope in hand.

Casey bit his lip to keep from making any noise. He couldn't lift his arms up high enough without hurting his ribs to get his shirt off. Dawson seemed to notice his struggle and asked, "Need help?"

The blonde looked embarrassed, but nodded.

Dawson leaned closer and pulled his t-shirt up. "Can you raise your arms up?" she asked. He obliged, raised them half way up.

She lifted the neck hole of the shirt over his head and then pulled the shirt off of his arms.

He grunted.

Dawson looked at him apologetically and sighed, "Sorry."

"S'okay," Casey mumbled.

"Do you think you've got any broken ribs?" she asked.

"I don't know. It all just hurts," he grunted.

She nodded. "I'm just gonna feel to see if anything is broken, but you're definitely gonna need to have have this x-rayed," she told him.

Dawson moved closer to him. She lightly pressed on his ribs with two fingers.

Casey groaned. Dawson was making the aching in his ribs even worse, but her hands were so warm, he almost didn't mind. The warmth felt good on his bruised torso.

He watched the woman in front of him touching his chest. His cheeks turned a pale shade of pink. Despite the pain, Dawson's proximity and light touch was turning him on.

She pressed down on the lower part of the left side of his ribcage and Casey gasped.

Dawson looked up. "Sorry," she said.

Sliding back in her seat, she continued, "I don't think anything is broken, but you still need that x-ray."

"Okay," he said, holding her gaze.

"I'm being serious. Don't think that you can avoid the hospital just because Hallie's there and you don't want to worry her. You could have some kind of internal damage that I can't see," Dawson lectured, trying to stare the firefighter down.

"Okay," he repeated, a little agitated. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Anything else?"

Putting the stethoscope on, she said, "Just this."

Dawson stood up and leaned toward him. She put her hand on his left shoulder to keep her balance in the small space and put the cold metal against his back. Her heart speed up slightly at their closeness while she listened to his labored breathing.

The paramedic took the stethoscope off and sat back down. "I don't see anything horribly wrong. You should be fine, but you're still going to the hospital. Do you want a ride?" Dawson said.

He nodded. "Do you mind if I talk to Chief first?" he asked.

"I'll go get him," Dawson said and with that she hopped out of the ambulance.


End file.
